


The House Built Without Hands

by WitchyTwitchy



Series: Way Down We Go [1]
Category: Escape the Night (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Characters are only somewhat based on the actors, Etn Retold In Au Form, Everyone makes terrible descions, Everything is complex, F/F, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Implied Relationships, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Morally Ambiguous Character, More Crying, More Emotional Deaths, Out of Character, Slow Updates, Slow couple of chapters, They're their roles au, Unhealthy Relationships, actual 1920s, family bonds, things aren't what they seem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:15:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22603822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchyTwitchy/pseuds/WitchyTwitchy
Summary: Ever since his early years, all that Joey has ever wanted was a home. And one day, he's finally given something that looks just like his ideal home....But it's really just a cage built to trap some new birds within it.
Relationships: The Big Game Hunter | Oli White/The Journalist | Eva Gutowski, The Fixer | Andrea Brooks/The Gambler | Justine Ezarik, The Gambler | Justine Ezarik & The Professor | Matt Haag, The Gambler | Justine Ezarik & The Savant | Joey Graceffa, The Heiress | Sierra Furtado/The Gambler | Justine Ezarik, The Journalist | Eva Gutowski/The Renegade | Shane Dawson, The Mobster | Timothy DeLaGhetto/The Professor | Matt Haag, The Renegade | Shane Dawson/The Big Game Hunter | Oli White, The Savant | Joey Graceffa & Everyone, The Savant | Joey Graceffa & Matt Haag
Series: Way Down We Go [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626457
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	1. Beginning of the End

There was not a single being other than himself lurking in the long hallways of the Society's tenth base. His steps echoed throughout the decaying building, filling the silence in the building for the first time in months. Tired eyes took in the decor to stall, analyzing the portraits lined on the striped walls, of dead and living members. And there were even pieces of artifacts left on the ground. Which crushed easily beneath his boots when he crossed roads with one. Frankly, he didn't care much about destroying them, seeing as they were just pieces of long gone artifacts that were coated in his teammates' blood. 

His...former teammates' blood. The stunt he was going to pull in the next few days would make every member here his enemy. This was still a fact that he was struggling to get used to - because he's spent eight years as a loyal member..and now he was going to throw it all away. 

Shane finds himself face to face with steel double doors in no time. The ginger haired male begins to push them open, but hesitates last second. His body is flush against the doors and he finds himself reconsidering what he was about to do. Years flash through his mind of the Society, and then years of the very people he was about to sacrifice everything for appeared within his memories as well. For a moment, his breath quickens, panicked, but the moment passes and he's able to grasp his emotions again. The Society or his friends, which ones should he betray? His brain admits that both options are dangerous, but then his emotions push for his friends to win the mental battle ; and he overcomes the Society in his mind. 

His friends win, easily, and Shane feels the nervousness fade into his stomach as he faces the door with a grim look. With newfound courage he barriges in. Pushing through the steel doors with enough force that they slam into the wall, leaving a deafening sound that would surely hurt anyone else. But not him. He's too strong to even be considered human anymore, at least in his own head that is. 

The room is ruined. Just like the rest of the base, it's hollow. Furniture is tossed around and turned over, anything glass is now just sparkles on the ground in the form of shards. Cases that withheld the most important of documents that dated back centuries are violated. Shane absentmindedly kicks at a headless, cracked statue near the door as he examines the room with dull eyes. To anyone, this place was useless. It was clear everything important had been stolen from this base. 

Except...there was something here that would gravely help Shane. Something important that everyone else ignored. And now, it would be all his. Despite eight years of collecting artifacts, this would be the first time he would own one. And he was definitely a little excited at the prospect. 

All he needs to do is find it.

He tries to get into the right mindset for this type of job as he prowls around. Careful eyes taking in every little thing, even if said thing was useless, he would still put the item in the back of his mind; just encase he would need it later. Every move he made around the room was done purely out of strategy. Disfigured and bruised hands grabbing at the spines of books and pulling them to open secret passages, and even making sure to squint at every dent in the wall or flour. While he was sure the artifact was here - Shane wasn't sure how long it would take him to locate it. And with time being as precious as it is, his friends only had a few more days to live before they would end up dead within Joey's manor. If he failed to get this artifact - then this sacrifice would all be for nothing.

Shane bites his lip and whirls around to examine some of the paintings, but freezes when he sees that he's been followed inside. 

The figure is already checking the painting, lips pursed as she inspects it. Shane feels himself take in a deep breath, willing the butterflies that are in his throat to disappear. "Eva."

At the call of her name, she responds instantly. Eva turns to face him, and she smiles. "Yes?" Her hands are now brushing along her shirt, smearing it with the dirt and dust she picked up from the painting.

"I told you to go home." She's never disobeyed him before. And he's trying to act like it doesn't sting. "You can't be here."

Eva's his apprentice and he's trying to protect her the only way he knows how; by tackling her out of the way of the crossfire that's on the horizon. She's his helper, his best friend, and someone...someone he cares deeply for. A realization that still forces him to swallow the lump that forms in his throat at the idea of it. Somehow, Shane had been summoned by her once ; a memory that occurred almost three years ago. Some sort of jewel had summoned him when she was in danger and - well - the rest is history. The Society let him take her on, and now he regrets ever making that choice.

Mainly because she's still acting like his apprentice, when she knows fully well that Shane is cutting off every connection he has to the Society tonight. 

The former journalist looks startled, hurt even, for just a moment ; but then smirks confidently. She bends down and touches something on the ground as she responds with a simple, "Same goes for you.." And soon she rises with the statue's head in her hands. "You shouldn't be here, I mean. But here you are - here I am. Might as well let me help, since I'm here."

The soon-to-be renegade snarls. "I don't need your help. I'm your mentor." She doesn't understand that this is all to protect her. 

His response warrants an even bigger smug smirk on her face. Eva thinks about his words, tossing the statue's head between her hands. And finally, she laughs and turns the head towards him - and he zeros in on the little button that is nested in the stone. Shane's mouth opens slightly, and his apprentice beams at his impressed expression. He takes a quick glance at the headless statue he kicked earlier, and feels disappointed when he realizes what this might mean. 

If the statue that hid the artifact had been dismantled….then that meant..

When he looks back at Eva, her smile turns into a frown at his expression. Worry crosses her features, and she tries to move closer. To which Shane puts out a hand to stop her in her tracks. Instead, he motions towards the button, raising an eyebrow in her direction. They've been stuck to each other's sides for such a long time, that Eva knows what he wants her to do immediately. She doesn't seem as thrilled as earlier, but she does at least place her index finger on the button. Then - a split moment - the former journalist hesitates, glancing at Shane. He doesn't try to reassure her once he sees the realization dawning on her own face, and instead taps his foot impatiently. 

The girl breathes in deeply, exhaling once, before she finally pushes the button down into the stone. 

A trap door opens in the ceiling, startling poor Eva who then ends up dropping the head. It cracks terribly, but Shane can only keep his eyes on the prize. A small surface of polished wood lowers before them, brought down by chains that are linked at its sides. From certain angles, he can't see anything. And his heart bounces for the hope that the artifact is still there. That he could still get the job done with ease, and that no one would have to die! The hope that tightens in his chest is the most genuine feeling he's felt in such a long time. But instead of being able to hold onto that light for a bit longer, it's blown out when the table lowers down fully..

And it's completely empty. The artifact is truly gone. One of the only things that could help him save his friends is missing. 

His apprentice ( no, she isn't that anymore )- his best friend shuffles beside him in an instant. Eyes wide as she starts to realize their loss. Shane, if he wasn't as strong as he was, is sure he would start shaking. Instead, he can only back away from the horror. Gazing solemnly at the empty table from afar. Eva turns to him, looking stricken, but there isn't anything he can do to fix this. He had been so sure it would still be here. 

"The Harp...Lazarus' Harp is gone." The brunette whispers. "Shane..it's gone."

He can only force out an, "I know."

There was no way to retrieve the Cursed artifacts until he arrived at the mansion, where they have surely been hidden by vessels of the enemy. So he had thought that the Harp would help them instead, because he could undergo every challenge and lose. But then he could be brought back every single time until the songs ran out on the Harp. That had been his only sure proof plan, and now it had slipped through his fingers. The only opportunity that guaranteed that most, if not all, of his friends would survive this was now gone. And Shane had no idea what else to do. He had only planned to go against the Society a week ago, and then spent that very week tracking down these artifacts…Which were gone. Stolen or reclaimed by the Society. 

Eva looks down, bowing her head with shame that they've already failed. She doesn't ask if there's anymore artifacts they could use, because she knows all the artifacts aren't here, either. This whole trip was useless and Shane's brief hope has died. The only thing he could do was try and stop someone from dying in a challenge - but he isn't sure if that would work. Monsters weren't exactly negotiable. 

He calculates the odds, the number of survivors, and feels himself tense up. If there was one for every artifact, then only three or four would need to die. Shane can only try to be one of those four- but if something goes wrong...he - he doesn't know what he'll do. 

"What even was the plan? What did they ask you to do?" The woman asks softly, crossing her arms across her chest and looking at the steel doors. 

Shane blinks, and tries to remember their exact words. "They wanted me to make sure the evil in the house claimed Joey. That the people attending would become vessels to the Cursed God." He shifts, uncomfortable. "Basically I would be there to make sure nobody but me made it out. I'd lock it in time and wait for as long as it takes for the house to claim every last one of the guests."

Eva looks fearful, and her hands shake slightly ; a thing he only notices when she tugs at her jacket. "You would be stuck in the 20s? While the rest of the world...moved on without you?" 

At least she doesn't ask why the Society would want the Cursed God to win this round. Shane just nods, and his fingers slowly reach up - brushing at the branded, burnt skin on the left side of his neck. He feels the dents in the skin with regret, and can almost feel the burning sensation again. The mark of the Society. Their occult symbol. Claiming Shane as theirs forever. 

Even if he ditched the jacket that had the same symbol - even if he became the renegade he's destined to be...He would always be the Society's. Dead or alive. Shane can only be thankful that Eva hasn't been branded yet - especially if she's serious about giving up the Society to help him. 

After a brief moment of silence, the two gather their thoughts and turn to head out. Shane rounds every corner first, opens every door with Eva tucked protectively behind him. She seems irritated about him taking the risk, but he doesn't care enough to let her argue. When Joey calls upon them, like Shane knows he will, the renegade knows that he will die in the house. It's a possibility that is fact in his head. He won't let anyone die in front of him - even Joey. So he'll end up dead no matter what happens..Eva on the other hand has a chance. So he protects her in the moment to ensure that she'll be alive and ready to help her friends when the time comes. 

Slowly, but surely, they exit the ruined building. Shane makes sure to exit first, but then stops and lets Eva go ahead just encase someone tried to grab her from behind. He ushers her out and let's the doors shut with a loud thud behind them. Little pieces of debris fall around the entrance due to the force. And him and Eva just stare at the abandoned base with the unknown surrounding them. 

It's Eva, who has always asked too many questions, who breaks the silence first. "Don't die on me, okay? I don't want to lose you." 

She looks expectedly at him, but Shane keeps his gaze anywhere but her. He can't say anything to that when he knows what his fate is going to be. You never betray the Society and get away with it. You never enter the game of the Cursed God and be certain of your survival. It's a lesson Eva will have to learn. Along with learning how to cope with death, when he's really gone. 

He can't respond, can't promise anything - and he can't work up the nerve to say he loves her more than she could ever know. So he just grabs her hand weakly, and lets her squeeze it with her stern grip. Shane doesn't look down at their interlocked hands, but he sees it clearly in his mind and smiles secretly to himself. 

"Let's go back to your place." He suggests. "We have notes to write."

Eva's nose scrunches up, frowning with a troubled look in her eye, but she obeys. She moves away from the base that cost them a whole hour and tugs him along with her. Keeping their hands locked together as they start to make their way back to Shane's car , and out of the isolated location they're currently in. 

The brand on his neck burns with every step, and he can't help but wonder if he's making a huge mistake. 

* * *

When the woman came to, the gathered members around her broke out in a symphony of emotions. Anger, hurt, fear, and even bloodlust. Their voices clashed in the large meeting space, hundreds snarling and snapping at each other. Even towards the woman who was struggling to remain standing. 

Seven leaders stood in front of the shaking woman. Watching her with dark eyes as she slowly gathered herself, and forced the pain in her head to go away. They didn't bother with the chaos erupting around them, and didn't seem to even care as some of their own started to storm out - too anxious to deal with this terrible new fact forced upon them. 

"She's lying!" A voice bellows from behind a sea of people. "She's a backstabbing gypsy who wants the Society to crumble for her own gain!"

"Traitor!"

"She's an original! Don't speak to her that way!"

One of the Seven turned to watch the crowd turn into three sides. People divided themselves among groups of shouting, and another of the Seven watched with the other leader. 

The one in the middle, adorned with robes made of silks unknown to mankind, stepped towards the woman. She froze, tensing, and two other members in the crowd tensed as well. However, the middle one didn't try to grab at her or anything like that - they simply bowed their head in respect. One the other six caught on, they shouted and stomped their canes, demanding respect and silence from their Society. And in one second the room was still. Every member froze, remaining silent as they had been told to be - and their postures became prim and proper. The members all stood, backs straight, and waited. 

The middle one levels the gypsy with a look, their cloudy eyes masking all emotion. The member gulps in fear. 

"You're sure you saw what you saw?"

She shakes her head, but upon seeing the looks on her leader's faces, she's quick to explain."No, no! I did not see - I heard them...the stars!" Her voices hisses out, full of passion and wonder. 

The Sevens look at eachother, before turning back to her. This time, another one steps forward - a woman with tired eyes and dark skin that's painted in dead wolf skin. "And they told you this? In detail? That Shane is planning to betray us? His family?"

The woman doesn't hesitate to voice her answer. "Yes. He's going against your wishes." 

Silence fills the suffocating room. No member dares to speak. And even the leaders seem to be caught off guard. Their looks are pained, panicked, and angry at the same time - and they all keep looking at each other...before the middle one finally looks at the portrait on their left. People see their gaze and move away, giving the Sevens a clear view of Shane's portrait. He sits in a frame, obedient and painted, with his brand highlighted to showcase his loyalty. Not many members had portraits, and yet within all bases Shane's was a sight to behold. He resided in every single place, always everywhere. Famous at first, and the gypsy could tell he was about to be infamous at best. 

The Sevens lean towards each other, their hushed voices only being heard clearly by the woman 

"We can't let Shane be free. We have to put him down." A voice demands. 

Another one rises up, angry. "We can't kill him! He's one of our elites! We can't take this sort of loss! We can bring him back-"

A gentle hum enters the argument. "It's a loss either way. But we'll lose less if Shane is gone for good. Shane alive will be dangerous - he's dangerous."

The dark haired woman just listens, slowly brushing her dark hair out of her face. Her dark lips curl into a snarl when she catches people glaring her way, and she has to remind herself that they have every right to be suspicious. But that doesn't make their gawking any less disrespectful. 

Minutes pass by, and everyone in the room waits with patience for their seven leaders. The woman doesn't blame them for taking a while to decide on what action to take, seeing as this is very personal business. She can only hope that her little stars hadn't fooled her, or else she'll be in...major trouble for fooling her leaders and the members of the Society. 

Finally, they turn to address the room. Her head snaps up from where it had been hanging, and she watches as they all start to announce their choice in perfect sync. 

"Helpers, we have decided to let Shane go. If this is his choice, then so be it."

Nothing but silence greets the leaders. Six of them clear their throats before continuing on to explain why they were choosing this - over every other option. She would've listened, but one pulls her to the side - and they hide in the shadows. One of the many leaders makes sure the audience is transfixed on the other six, before addressing her. 

All she gets is something heavy put into her hands. It almost slips from her grip, but she's able to get a hold on it. It's heavy, but there's something mystic about it. And despite the fact she's in the darkest shadows of the room, the thing begins to glow faintly in her hands. Upon remembrance, she chokes. 

"The Harp of Lazarus?" She whispers. 

The leader nods. "Your new task is to forever guard this thing with your life. Wherever you go, it goes, understand?" At her nod, the man continues on. "You're excused from the rest of this meeting. Go rest in your chambers."

And with that, the other is off again - joining his six other leaders in the room that has once again turned into an ever lapping argument feast. 

Obeying her command, she turns and disappears down a passageway - the Harp feeling like weight in not only her arms but in her heart for some reason as well. The loud arguments fade into nothing but harsh whispers the further and further she moves down the passageway. And soon she can hear herself and the stars clearly once more. For a moment, her mind traitorously wishes Shane the best of luck.

Since he's desperately going to need it. 


	2. Everything You've Ever Wanted

Childhood had not been too kind to Joey, and the same applies even more to the rocky road of adulthood. From bullies, to the mad dash of trying to hold a job, he greatly suffers through all stages of life.  
Yet as he tries to sleep in this abandoned, crooked house, he decides he preferred childhood. At least back then he hadn't been so utterly alone. Left to empty pockets and his creative mind.

The blond remains curled up on a filthy couch, nestling into his arms that are folded around his head. Where he currently stays is loud, with the creaking of shutters, doors, and the groan of the floorboards in the middle of the night. He never gets any good sleep here, but it's better than being outside in the storm. Joey knows his body isn't healthy enough to fight off hypothermia, or any sort of disease at the moment. He's starved and his throat aches from only drinking bits of rain water. Ribs stretching his skin across the bones- his body is the worst it's ever been. And to think he used to see bruised knees and painless colds as the worst thing in the world.

A soft yearning coils around his heart as he remembers family. It takes everything left in his wasting body to keep his sore, closed eyes from watering. He buried his parents years ago, and even though Joey is alone - he doesn't feel too lonely despite this situation. He still has family out there, not stuck in a grave. The blond man sucks in a breath, and his mind trails to his siblings. One sharing his blond hair and parents, while the other is a sibling thanks to being a lifelong childhood friend. He thinks of them, stricken with longing to see them again soon, and hopes that neither of them are stuck in the storm.  
Joey was the failure son, not them, so he highly doubts they were out in this weather. But the image of either of them drenched and sick strikes a nerve so fiercely, he actually feels alive for once.

Did they still look the same after a whole year? Did they still do what they used to do? Did they have anyone special? Then, selfishly, he wonders if they miss him. If they blame him for never making a house a home, or providing them a roof over their heads like he told them he would. Joey's memories are dull, lifeless, but he feels this one vibrantly. And it slowly takes form in his mind, reminding him of something and distracting him from the uncomfortableness of his situation.

* * *

_"I wish we had a car. And a big house. And a cute little puppy….But mostly a car."_

_Joey rolls his eyes as his sister's whining, "You mention this every time I see you, Justine. Every. Time."_

_She's a young woman with flowing locks of golden hair and ruby lips. Very clearly the most attractive out of her lot of siblings, and she knows this. Justine wears white everything, and yet Joey's never seen her as a fragile piece at all. One day, soon perhaps, his sister will bring the world to its knees. He isn't quite sure if he's ready for that or not._

_Finally, his brother chimes in. Sitting against a tree with a book in hand as he practices his reading. "Your fascination with cars is truly something. Do you like the technology?"_

_Technology? Joey almost forgot that was a word. He scoffs, immediately no longer interested in this conversation. Cars were never his thing. But houses? Now that was something he could talk about. So before his sister can respond, he's quick to shove his way into the conversation. To start a new topic. He is the oldest out of the three of them, so they'll follow his lead._

_"I want an estate one day! You know, one of the really beautiful ones on good land? You could start a garden, Justine, and Matt can have his own library!"_

_Justine doesn't seem interested in the garden bit, but he does get his adopted brother's attention. The man looks nothing like him or his sister, with brown hair and sharper features, but Joey has never cared for that. Matt was one of them, always has been, it didn't matter if they didn't look alike. They spent all of childhood together, with Matt practically living with them - family is family._

_He smiles, shyly and a bit too small for his liking. "That'll be good for me. Once I succeed the professor I'm studying under, I'll need to have a perfect space to plan my teachings!"_

_"I want a big place to gamble! Have it be real nice looking! You gonna provide us with that, Joey?" Justine looks at him, sun raining down on her and making her smile even more bright._

_And with two pairs of wonderful eyes staring at him, how was he supposed to say no?_

* * *

Ever since then, and even before that moment, he had wanted that dream home. A place to lay down his roots and stay. Joey didn't even want it just for his siblings, but for himself as well. Having a true home was the greatest gift life could give you. People who already had one were the luckiest people alive. And maybe an estate would be too big for him and two other people, logically, but he never did care much for the logistics of things. That was Matt's job, not his.

After such a memory, he waits for it all to settle back into his mind as he just lays there on his broken couch. In this broken home. The furthest thing from what he wants. Joey sighs and just waits for the storm to pass, or for sleep to finally take him. Either one would do just fine by him, at this point. Joey shivers against the cold, grimey fabric and waits. Letting seconds, minutes, and hours tick by without moving an inch or opening his eyes.  
Seeing the situation he was in wouldn't do him any good, and besides, he would hear when the storm stopped. So he was fine where he was.

As fine as he could be in this predicament.

Eventually, he feels his mind draw a blank. The storm raging outside helping him slowly drift off. His brain turns to mush, his senses slowly dull, and Joey is thankful that he'll actually get some sleep for the first time all week. Even if his body aches and he hates sleeping on filth, at least he'll get some sleep and feel a bit better tomorrow morning. Joey feels cold to the touch, but at least he isn't wet…  
And he drifts...and drifts...thoughts becoming more random as he slowly falls into the welcoming abyss in his mind.

Abstract shapes fill his head. The rain outside transferring into his dreams as well. Hours pass, and by the time he finally does wake up - sweating and trembling - he sees the sunlight flooding the broken house. Joey falls off the couch and scrambles for the boarded windows. Rough fingers grabbing at the wood as he peers through the small openings.  
The outside looks nothing like his dream. The land isn't even close to being the same. Joey narrows his eyes, mouth twisting into a frown.  
Dreams weren't real, no. But that one had felt beyond realistic to him. Joey pulls away and looks down at his hands, surprised to see them not covered in mud. His skin tingles with the feeling of harshly tearing out grass; scratches burning from rubbing the skin against tombstones. The dream had felt like a memory, and he is still reeling from it.

_Rain. Crying. A land full of graves like some graveyard-_  
A figure looming over him, dressed in all black, and staring down at him through what looked like a plague doctor mask.

Another shiver attacks his body. Despite the warm weather, he still feels so cold. His arms wrap around himself in a last ditch attempt to still his shaking body, his mind racing with thoughts. The longer he stands there, trying to recall the nightmare, the more he forgets. And soon? Joey can barely remember anything at all. It's frightening, but he knows he can't dwell on it. He had to leave this property immediately before someone caught him lurking about. The last thing he needed was to get sent to the big house and given another bit, again. As he grabs his wool jacket, he faintly recalls that he was still supposed to be laying low after Timothy busted him out last time.

_Sorry, Tim._ Joey apologizes mentally. _I know you pulled a lot of strings to get me out of there._

Surely the mobster would understand. Joey didn't have a place to lay low, and the moment Tim mentioned staying with the mob, he had raced off. Honestly he would take the police over the mob anytime. Though that had meant he had nowhere to go. And here Joey was again, house hopping until he could find a permanent place to stay. Hoping that the police wouldn't catch him again. Praying that his family didn't ever realize what a huge failure he was.  
Joey shakes his head and throws his jacket over his shoulder. He looks into a broken mirror, picking at his teeth and musing with his hair until he looks somewhat decent. It would have to do, and at least he didn't look completely homeless. Straightening his shoulders, the blond strutted towards the door and yanks it open. His body goes into autopilot as he just keeps moving forward, barely registering that his exit was blocked by a man - until he slammed into the other of course.

A tight, gripping panic hits him immediately. From the fact he had been caught, to his exit being blocked, and to the fact he had just pressed his body into another _man's_ was enough to make Joey jump back upon impact. His nerves zap with energy, and he has no doubt he looks even more frazzled then before. Eyes wide, mouth open, and shoulders tense as he readies himself for confrontation. He barely cares about taking in the rather striking man before him, who has merely straightened his slightly wrinkled tux. The man seems like a gentlemen, but Joey can't be sure. There's been so many times where he's let his guard down, and only received beatings in return. For a moment, he really wishes that the mob would show up and protect him. But in hindsight he ruined all that the moment he turned down Tim's offer.

"Good day, sir. That was quite a bodyslam." The soft, ginger haired man starts off. Brown eyes looking down at Joey with a gleam to them. "I'll have to say, you're stronger than you look."

Joey bites his cheek, unsure of what this approach was. "Thanks…" He's never been called sir before, only Mr.

At his caution, the man quickly throws up his arms in surrender. Worry now painted across his face, and the whole genuineness of this interaction makes the blond even more nervous. "Oh I'm so terribly sorry! I realize this must be a fright to you- I can solemnly swear I am not here to turn you into the police, sir. Please do not worry!"

Okay, this was definitely setting off alarm bells. Why wouldn't this clearly wealthy man turn a beggar like him into the police? He doesn't trust this at all, even if the other seems like he means no harm. And it's becoming very obvious that this man was here to find him, specifically. Was the mob mad at him? Was this one of Shane's weird, little friends sent to check on him? Deliver a message maybe? Joey clenches his jaw, and his hands turn into fists at his side. Even though this man looms over him, he tries to look tall and intimidating himself.  
Though really, nobody has ever been quite scared of Joey. He just wasn't a person who people labeled as a threat or monster. All the blond boy amounts up to is a physically weak, easily spooked, pathetic excuse of a man. Who would ever be scared of him? Joey has never caused anyone harm. Ever. So why would this man be, either?

And clearly the man wasn't scared of this tactic. Instead he just smiles kindly when Joey tries to one-up him. The response makes him even madder, and his pale cheeks flare with the color red. "What's your name? What...what do you want?" He tries to demand, but his voice is too raspy to come off as one. By god, he really needs some water.

"I'm very glad you asked. My name is Arthur. I am, to be blunt, your butler!"

What.

The confusion on his face must be evident, because the man - no, _Arthur_ starts to explain. "I know you're confused, I see it on your face; but it's true. I am your very own, personal butler! It took me a very long time to find you, sir, but after months of searching - here I am! I've come to fetch you."

Joey doesn't want to start trembling again, but he does. The warm weather suddenly feels chilly, and despite Arthur's charming, cheerful exterior, all the blond can think of is that something about this? It's wrong. "Fetch me? Whatever for?"

"Why, for your estate of course. You are Joey Grace, right? One of your cousins owned an estate, and me of course, but they…" Arthur hesitates, but at Joey's cough he continues. "They passed, I'm so sorry for your loss - but, ahem, they told me I serve you now. And the house is all yours!"

House. An estate. Left for him? For free? It didn't seem possible. Joey's breath quickens, and his hands grip at his dirty shirt as he struggles to process this. There was no way this was true. It couldn't be. Things like this didn't happen to people as bland as him. In this world you have to take what you want, bleed for it - there's no way that Joey's greatest dream was coming true before him. This had to be a trick. Any moment now Arthur would pull out a contract and tell him he would have to pay for the estate with his life. This couldn't be true, it just couldn't be.  
He swallows down a lump forming in his dry throat. Joey feels ill, suddenly. All the different emotions clashing into a horrid mixture that tastes like vomit. All he can hope is that if he throws up, that it isn't on the other man's expensive suit.

Arthur waits patiently for a reply, seeming to not mind the fact Joey was freaking out. He stands there, hands behind his back, and waits. It strikes Joey there that Arthur definitely seems like a butler in such a position...at least he didn't seem to be lying about that. For a moment, he keeps to himself. Wheezing as he struggles to breathe properly. Trying to stop the shaking that made his skin feel cold. Here he was, falling apart in front of someone who might be his butler; what a mess of a master he would make. Surely the other was thinking this too, yet when Joey forces himself to glance up into Arthur's eyes ; there's not a hint of emotion flickering in them. Perhaps as a butler he had to learn to keep his feelings in check?  
He isn't sure - oh Joey isn't sure about anything. It's so silly to want to trust Arthur, but he wants a home so bad. His back aches from all the stiff couches and floors. Joey's tired of the constant colds and allergies that come from the dust filled, abandoned houses. He wants a house, an estate, so bad.

If this was a trick, this person clearly knew him well. This was the only trap that he was guaranteed to fall for. And even though he could see the warning signs; he just happened to see his potential future a lot clearer.

In his mind he could see himself in the largest house he's ever seen. Walls made of perfect, bleached white marble. A beautiful staircase that spiraled upwards. Multiple floors and maybe even a basement. Joey pictures himself - with perfect, clean blond hair and a suit that fits his body perfectly - in a garden that looked fit for royals. Rose bushes, blossoming violets, and a water fountain centerpiece.  
He doesn't even realize that he's calming down from imagining this ideal future; until he snaps out of it and notices that he's breathing properly. Joey blinks, and looks up to make sure he didn't just hallucinate everything from how hungry he was-  
In front of him, Arthur still stands. He looks relieved that Joey's calmed down, at least.

"You're serious? My cousin-" What cousin could have so much wealth, he idly wonders. He didn't even know a death had happened in the family. "-they left me an estate? For free?"

The butler nods.

Joey licks his dry lips. "Where's the paperwork?"

He doesn't like the fact Arthur suddenly looks guilty. The man bows his head. "I'm very sorry, sir, I didn't bring it with. Your cousin asked that you stayed at the house for a month before signing it. They wanted to make sure you like it before you decide to own it."

That's suspicious. Or maybe it isn't. Joey couldn't even recall a cousin with an estate, so maybe the cousin was being cautious about their (former) prized home. He's never owned a place himself, so he is naive when it comes to what homeowners do when they pass down a house. He shifts in place, deciding to lean his shoulder against the house's decaying doorway. Joey crosses his arms over his chest, taking in this information. So he didn't have any papers to prove that this was real. All he could guess was that Arthur was expecting him to just...follow him to the estate? Or something of the sort.  
This could definitely be a set up for a murder. But who cared about him enough to do so?  
( Or maybe they knew what he was; because people like him got murdered for that reason alone - though wouldn't Arthur just kill him now? They were alone out here- )

"Listen, sir-"

"You can just say Joey. It's fine."

Arthur pauses, "Alright...Joey...Listen, I can take you to the estate to see it yourself. You'll believe this situation if you see it. We'll take the car and everything!"

The car? Arthur had a boiler? Would that be his too? Joey's head snaps up in interest. He peers over the man's shoulder and is surprised to see it far behind Arthur. But it was there. An actual car. It wasn't running, but his butler is quick to pull the keys out of his tux pocket, and flash them in Joey's blue eyes. He gasps, and forgets his manners as he almost reaches for it ; but he's quick to stop himself. What was he doing? Acting so desperate?  
His breath catches in his throat when Arthur's hands grasp at his, gentle and cautious, and it's such a surreal feeling to be touched that he can only stomach it for a second before he yanks his hands away. The ginger haired man raises his hands up to show no harm, but Joey focuses on the new weight in his palms. He opens his hands and sees the keys.

"I know this comes off wrong, trust me, I get it. I've practiced what to say to you a thousand times to try and not seem creepy- but it seems like I'm failing in that regard." Arthur chuckles humorlessly. "So how about this. You drive and I'll tell you where to go. If you get a gut feeling I'm some crazed murderer, you can shove me onto the road and take the car for yourself. Deal?"

Arthur was so patient, like a butler should be, yet he felt very human as well. He didn't look like what a butler in Joey's mind looked like. The man was charming, confident and very, very amusing. His appearance wasn't old nor decrepit. Quite the opposite in fact. Arthur was extremely handsome. Soft, frizzy ginger hair and fair skin that was clear of anything pimples or dirt. A soft smile that showed off his dimples, and eyes that brightened every time Joey seemed to give in a little more. It was weird to think that he would legally own the man and his services if he took the estate, if it was real. The thought was almost too much.

But he couldn't let this opportunity pass him by. Joey had to take this risk, right? He would regret it forever if he didn't. Besides, while he was scared of death, he was more scared of living like this forever. His eyes turn back to the keys, heavy in his palm with implication. He had to do this.

"I don't...know how to drive, Arthur. I could kill us both!" A last ditch effort to escape this situation. If the butler took the keys and left, Joey would have no choice but to abandon this crazy idea of following a stranger to an unknown location.

A scoff escapes the man, and he waves his hand in dismissal. "Nonsense. Driving a car is simple. I'll be beside you the whole time. If we crash, we'll just have to walk there and buy you a new car. Please do not stress it."

Joey narrows his eyes, challenging. "You're awfully trusting of someone you just met."

Don't get excited at the prospect of getting Justine a car. Or giving Matt the study he's always wanted. Don't get excited don't get excited-

"I guess we're on the same boat then, hm?" Arthur easily throws Joey's words back at him. "Now come along. You'll need a tour of the place, a meal, a bath, and a fitting for new clothes today. That's a lot to get done."

He expects Arthur to walk forward without him, but all the butler does is extend his arm towards him instead. Did he want Joey to take it? That seemed...intimate. He wasn't sure if butlers and masters walked around arm-in-arm. But he didn't want to make a big deal out of nothing. Joey forces a smile, before taking the offer. Arthur's arm returns to his side, and he makes sure his own arm curls around the man's. It's the same pose of a woman clinging to her lover, but Joey knows it isn't the same. Just a butler helping their future master to the car. He'll definitely have to get used to the intimacy of a personal servant, that's for sure.  
They walk away from the abandoned house, him clinging to the strong arm of his servant, and Joey lets Arthur guide him to the car. He keeps feeling the key in his free hand, reminding himself that he had full control of whatever happened next.

A feeling he could get used to, if he's being frank.

Arthur starts to inform him of anything that seems to come to his mind as he helps Joey into the car. "You won't just have me either. You have a maid, Sarah. And a groundskeeper, Marvin. A chief comes back to cook for you whenever or to drop off groceries for Sarah to cook when they're sick. Oh, Joey, you're going to love it there."

The fondness in Arthur's voice makes Joey laugh nervously. "That sounds like a bunch of responsibility."

"You won't have to do anything. I manage it all." There's the slam of the car door as the ginger haired male finally settles in the passenger seat. "Your job is to exist. And to order us around if you need something."

At least Arthur seems like someone he could really trust with time. Joey sends him a grateful smile before fumbling with the keys, eventually he gets them in where they're supposed to go - and the car roars to life. He beams at the panel, and Arthur claps. Joey could really get used to this.  
His hands touch the steering wheel with wonder. Feeling the smoothness of it beneath his fingertips. Momentarily he's reminded of his nightmare - of cold, smooth engravings on stones.. Arthur gently touches his shoulder, and he begins to focus on the present again due to the contact. Focus. Joey didn't want this to go badly, especially if his happily ever after was on the horizon.

It takes a few minutes to get everything in gear to start driving. Arthur remains helpful, constantly moving his hands to the right place and spouting murmurs of encouragement. And soon, Joey's anxiously stepping on the gas and driving forward. He leans forward and keeps his eyes firmly on the road, while the butler keeps flickering between him and the window. The blond realizes he's really driving. He giggles happily, feeling genuine joy for the first time in years. He hears Arthur chuckle beside him, seeming to be just as happy for the blond.

"So, Arthur….Where to?" Joey smirks.

Arthur drums his fingers on his door, a devious look breaking through his normal facade. "Well, you'll have to take a turn right up here-"

In a matter of an hour, Joey soon finds himself standing in front of his very own estate. And any red flags seem to escape him as his dream seems to finally come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note : joey's last name is changed from Graceffa to Grace due to the fact him and justine are siblings, and needed to share the same last name ! other characters who appear might have changed last names as well for reasons - so please keep that in mind !

**Author's Note:**

> chapter one summary -
> 
> Joey recalls his family and the consequences of being poor..and suddenly his life changes as Arthur, a charming stranger, tells him that he's just won himself a 'Forever Home' .


End file.
